


Fire Hazard

by CreativeLiterature



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:20:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28524597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreativeLiterature/pseuds/CreativeLiterature
Summary: Who knew she was so hot? During an emergency evacuation of Elias-Clark, Emily struggles to accommodate Miranda when she refuses to cooperate with protocol.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	Fire Hazard

"Emily!" called Miranda from deep within the depths of her office.

Andrea leapt up from her desk, notepad ready to transcribe the myriad of requests Miranda demanded of her that morning.

"I'd like my lunch," said Miranda, not looking up from her laptop. Andrea waited for a further response, but received a dismissive glance in return. "That's all."

"Yes, Miranda."

Andrea turned on her heel and dialed the number for Smith & Wollensky. She placed the order with the restaurant and shrugged on her coat before leaving the office.

Silence ensued as the real Emily remained in the office with Miranda.

"Allison," called Miranda, after a moment's respite. "Get Mr Tomlinson on the phone to - "

Before she could finish, a piercing shriek filled the room. Everyone in their offices began rising from their desks or from between wire hangers packed with clothes, dutifully heading towards the emergency exit. Emily barely had time to fetch her cell phone and handbag from beside her swivel chair, ears ringing from the shrill alarm when she heard Miranda call out, deliberately,

"Emily?" her voice was high-pitched but clear over the deafening din. "What is that awful racket?"

"It's the fire alarm, Miranda," called Emily, rushing out from the safe enclave of her desk. "We have to evac - "

"Call the building manager and tell him this disruption is uhn-acceptable. Inform the staff that this does not constitute an early morning absence."

Emily hurriedly returned to her desk and scanned the multi-page contact list on her computer while she nestled the phone in the crook of her shoulder, waiting for the dial tone to click. No answer. Everyone was descending the fire escape stairs by now.

"Emily!" called Miranda, this time louder. "This is no way to conduct business!"

Emily finally managed to get through to Eduardo at reception, who by some miracle had been near enough his desk to answer the call.

"You gotta come down," he snapped, before hanging up on her.

This gave Emily an idea, dialing the cell phone number of Irv Ravitz. If anyone could convince Miranda, it would be the CEO.

"Mr. Ravitz?" Emily tried to restrain the panic in her voice. "It's Emily, Miranda's assistant - "

"Emily?" he sounded confused, while the racket blared on his end, too. "Where's Miranda? Have you left the building yet?"

"She's - " Emily snapped to attention as Miranda marched into view, one hand on her hip, gazing down from her perch.

"I do not uhn-der-stand what is taking you so long," she snarled, glancing up to where the fire alarm continued to blare.

"It's Mr. Ravitz, Miranda. He'd like to speak with you." Miranda snatched the phone out of Emily's grip.

Emily sat in a panic, wondering if she had done the right thing. Would the firemen carry their aching, soot-covered bodies out of the building, Closet decimated and - worst of all - phone lines abandoned?

Finally, Miranda mumbled something incoherent into the phone and placed the receiver on the desk with a bang, startling Emily out of her reverie. "I'd like my coat. We're leaving."

Emily collected the heavy fur from the coat closet, struggling to keep up with her boss who strode on ahead. Miranda waited with ill-disguised impatience in front of the glass doors, accepting her fur without a further word. Emily tugged on the doors but they refused to open.

"Emily!"

Rushing towards the desk Sophy had abandoned, Emily pressed the switch which released the safety lock, though Miranda made no move to open the door.

"What on earth are you doing? Open this door at once!"

Face flushing with shame, Emily took off at a run, having pressed the button not a second prior and reaching the doors before they clicked closed. Panting slightly, she held the door open for her boss, who strode through without further acknowledging Emily's presence.

Emily pressed the call button upon reaching the bank of elevators, while Miranda sighed and unwound the Hermes scarf which bound her planner. While the elevators remained dormant, Emily tried to find a tactful way of alerting Miranda, whose attention was elsewhere and not to be disturbed. Alone with her boss, the shrill ringing continued. Emily coughed nervously but to no avail.

Glancing up to the electronic display which flashed 'not in service', Miranda sighed in consternation and began winding the scarf around her planner as she strode through the corridors which formed the heart of _Runway_. Emily managed to snatch her stilettos from where she had kicked them off and tugged them on, catching up to Miranda who was peering down into the several flights of stairs which comprised the emergency exit.

"I'll be needing a scarf," announced Miranda, apparently ignorant of the one which bound her planner. "Now, Emily!"

Emily broke into a run after moving past Miranda with as much grace as she could muster, reaching the anteroom and finding the cupboard where her boss' scarves were kept. She tore the lid off one of the many bright orange boxes, took the silky scarf out of its tissue paper and hurried back, hoping her sweaty hands weren't staining it.

Miranda accepted this new scarf without a thank-you and placed it upon the rail as she descended the stairs, shielding her slim hand from where countless others had gripped it with their unwashed, pedestrian mitts. Emily was careful not to stumble in her stilettos, as they continued in this way for some time, slightly deafened from the crescendo of ringing alarms which met them at each floor they passed. Upon reaching the end, Miranda tossed the slightly dirty scarf like a candy wrapper into a nearby bin, and paused for a moment to collect her bearings before emerging out into the lobby.

Pandemonium reigned as firemen wrangled with the bank of elevators, while policemen attempted to usher everyone to a safe point. Following in Miranda's wake, who cut through the dispersing crowd like a cobra, Emily watched Eduardo and Mickey attempt to calm down the mob of Bergman bankers who were apoplectic that their offices remained off-limits.

Bursting into the lobby, Andrea glanced around at the ruckus spread out before her as she affixed the nylon bag carrying Miranda's lunch higher onto her arm. She caught Emily's eye, mouthed a quick hello and crept closer, but out of Miranda's periphery.

Standing erect in her posture, Miranda surveyed the crowd with ill-disguised distaste, making eye contact but with those who glanced away in fear and ducked out of sight. She glared at Emily, a sudden gesture that made Andrea take a step back out of fear.

"Why aren't you calling Mr. Ravitz?" she demanded, refusing as always to acknowledge Andrea's presence. "Find him now!"

Across the room, Irv broke off his conversation with a fireman upon hearing the familiar British accent of _Runway_ 's editor-in-chief. He strode forward, beaming and clasped her hand in his, a friendly gesture Miranda tolerated only because he was her superior.

"It would seem someone triggered the alarm by mistake," replied Irv, by way of an explanation.

"Mistake?" Miranda glanced suspiciously about the crowd, struggling to remain calm and civil in such distress.

"The elevators will be up and running within a few minutes, I'm assured," he glanced towards Eduardo, who had his hands full breaking up a crowd of bankers who had broken into fistfights upon hearing the newest of their number was the man responsible. "This is an excellent opportunity for me to stretch my legs!"

Miranda's mouth became a thin line. Emily was sweating, trying to discreetly wipe her brow. Andrea wished she could access the gym everyone else seemed to have time for. Amiably, Irv headed through the crowd and towards the fire escape, glancing towards Miranda.

"Come on, Miranda!" he beckoned her over. "Nothing like a little exercise to keep us young!"

Both Emily and Andrea kept their mouths shut as they witnessed this well-intentioned subtlety snag their boss. Miranda paused, struggling for a moment then walked calmly through the crowd, stopping so suddenly that her assistants nearly whacked into her.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" Miranda rounded on the frightened Clackers who watched nearby. "I expect you all at the features meeting in five minutes!"

They hurried to obey, not so fast as Emily and Andrea who followed Miranda. Emily had a stitch in her side, while Andrea merely felt the pangs of hunger while her stomach growled loudly. If the Clackers had expected to see Miranda out of breath, they were no more well positioned than her assistants - the most any caught sight of the tireless editor-in-chief was the trailing fur coat beyond which clacked her red heels.

Miranda was out of sight by the time the rest of them reached the top, all panting in exertion with creased skirts, sweat stains under their arms and gorgeous hair blown out of proportion. Allison hurried off to the beauty department, preparing to fix the makeup of those who were expected at the meeting. Emily and Andrea had no such leisure, however, bursting into the anteroom preceding Miranda's office. The phone lines began to ring.

"I'll get it," murmured Emily, massaging her cranium as a headache began to build. "Miranda Priestly's office."

Noticing the fur coat which Miranda had thrust upon her desk, Andrea moved over to the closet to hang it up.

"Ahn-dre-ah!"

Tired already from the run to collect Miranda's lunch, Andrea forced a jolt of energy into her walk and - gasp! - caught sight of Miranda bent over double, a steadying hand on her desk before she turned, eyes narrowed like a hawk upon being discovered in such a vulnerable moment.

"I'll need a Pellegrino," said Miranda brusquely. "And I'd like my lunch after the features meeting concludes."

"Y-yes, Miranda," agreed Andrea, knowing this was impossible, but nodding all the same.

Alone in her office, Miranda massaged her aching back, glimpsing her reflection in the mirror. Her face and décolletage glowed with the afternoon's exertions.

"Emily! Ahn-dre-ah!" called Miranda, uncertain of who remained nearby. "I need a scarf, preferably in this calendar year!"


End file.
